Help
by NovelistServant
Summary: When Amorette losses her family due to illness, she turns to the gypsies for comfort by helping them and sharing meals with them after church, but how long will it last until Frollo comes for her?
1. Loss and Gain

"Hey! _Reviens, ton petit voleur!_ Stop!"

The little boy with black hair that went to the base of his neck and flew in the wind ran for his life with a loaf of bread clamped in his sweaty palm. The boy had a single golden hoop for an ear-ring on his left ear, was barefoot and wore faded purple rag-like clothes. He ran towards the outskirts of the town, where huts were farther apart and separated with tiny gardens and the countryside could be seen up ahead.

He did not look back – he could not afford to trip and fall – he only looked forward and dodged people, carts and horses. He was afraid of facing a soldier, but he was even more afraid of the consequences if he failed. His little heart pumped against his thin chest rapidly as he ran away from the baker who was chasing him.

The little gypsy ran and saw a tall, strong white man with dirty-blond hair walking down the little street, but he was not fast enough to stop or dodge in time; he bumped right into the man and fell right on his hindquarters. The boy looked up at the man he ran into and tried to get up and run away quickly, but the baker had caught up, red faced and swearing under his breath.

" _Merde_." He panted as he straightened up, furious, and he looked at the man the boy had practically rammed into. The baker steadied himself and said, "Monsieur Glasson, thank you for helping catch the rotten _garcon_! I shall take it from here."

The baker snatched the bread up with one hand and grabbed the boy's wrist with the other, gangling and holding the thief tightly as to stop him from running away, though hard he tried. The man called Glasson looked down at the little boy with baby-blue eyes and then looked up at the baker.

"What has he done, Monsieur?" He asked calmly.

"The nasty little gypsy stole from my bakery!" The man snapped, looking at the little boy. "He must be punished!"

"He stole." Glasson repeated. "I see."

It seemed to the boy that Glasson was doing some quick thinking, looking at the boy with those baby-blue eyes that seemed to be reading his soul. The boy found it near impossible to look him in the eye, and so, in shame, he let his head hang and his long black hair shield his face.

Glasson, however, did something that surprised the baker; he pulled out his sack of coins and took out two gold coins and held them out to the baker.

"For the bread." Glasson explained. "And keep the change."

The boy looked up so quickly his neck ached, his eyes round at the money in Glasson's pinch fingers, hardly daring to believe what he was looking at.

The baker scowled at Glasson and growled, "And what am I to do, let the filthy gypsy go? He will only steal again!"

"Then he will be caught another day." Glasson said calmly. "But not today. And since the bread is being paid for, you cannot have him arrested, and I am sure he will not bother you any time soon, seeing how lucky he was as to stealing from you once, _oui_?"

The baker thought about it for a moment. Glasson was giving him nearly double the bread's worth, and the thought of going home to relax instead of going through the trouble of turning the boy in was enough to bribe him.

The baker took the money, gave Glasson the bread, and growled at the boy before throwing him down into the dirt, "Stay away from my bakery, gypsy."

The baker turned and left the boy coughing out dirt from his lungs as he pocketed the money in his apron. Glasson watched the baker go while the boy looked down. He had a feeling the strange man did not want him to leave quite yet, and since he owed him, he was not keen into getting on his bad side.

As predicted, Glasson look down at the boy when the baker was gone, but his words were kinder and softer than imagined.

"Why did you take the bread?"

The little boy still could not bring himself to look at his protector, so he muttered just barely audible over the noise of the town,

"My mother is ill, Monsieur."

Glasson nodded in understanding and knew just what to do. "Come with me, _s'il vous plait_."

The boy finally looked up and saw Glasson gesture his hand to get up, but he was smiling and his eyes were sparkling. Unsure and surprised his legs could still work, the boy got up and the two started to walk towards the countryside. It wasn't long before the boy saw a small farm in which they were headed, just outside the crowded village. Crops of wheat and hay laid afar from the hut and smaller gardens of food were scattered closer to the home; a little stable was proof that the family owned a donkey and a few chickens.

A young boy at the age of twelve, who looked much like Glasson, was weeding at the small garden by a little house and looked up as they approached. He called into the house for his mom and she and a little girl of four-years-old came out to see the father come home.

" _Mon amour_." Madam Glasson said and went up to her husband. She was a beefy, but pretty woman with fair skin, jet-black hair, and hazel eyes. She kissed her husband on the cheek and looked down at the little boy. "Who is this?"

"This young man needs some soup, Mary." Monsieur Glasson said with a gentle smile. "And he must be able to take it home. Is dinner almost ready?"

" _Oui_." Madam Glasson said and smiled down at the boy. "Come, you may sit inside while I spoon you some soup."

" _Merci, Madam_." The boy said quietly, overwhelmed with the amount of kindness the family was showing.

Monsieur Glasson gestured him to the hut and he followed the wife as she went in to stir a pot over a fire in the fireplace. Monsieur Glasson took out a piece of cloth and started to carefully wrap the loaf of bread up.

The gypsy boy looked around the hut; there were a set of stairs that led to a bedroom for the children to sleep and play in, but on the floor, were a fireplace for warmth, a table, a big bed for the married couple, and a few countertops, cupboards, and an oven to cook with.

The Glasson boy walked in and went to the table and sat, not looking at the boy, but the Glasson girl looked at him and smiled by his side. She wore a little pink dress and bonnet and had baby-blue eyes like her father, but jet-black hair like her mother, that laid flat down her back and to her hips.

She smiled and said, "I'm Amorette. That's my brother, Napoleon. What's your name?"

The boy turned red and looked away, not sure if he wanted to say; the less these people knew about him, the better.

"It's alright." Madam Glasson said kindly and gave her daughter a stern look. "He does not have to say his name if he does not want to. All our welcome in our home."

Amorette nodded and said, " _Oui, Mama_."

Madam Glasson held out a little pot covered and full of soup and said, "Here you are. Is it too heavy for you?"

The boy was tempted to refuse it, but he did not want to be rude so he took the little pot carefully and tested it against his strength. He nodded to Madam Glasson with a small smile.

Monsieur Glasson went up to him and helped to tuck the loaf of bread under the boys left arm. "To go with the soup." He said warmly with a smile and put a hand on his shoulder. "There is hope; she will get better."

The boy's smile lessened, thinking of his mother, covered in boils and starving on that pathetic bed. He knew she would probably die, but any act that could save her needed to take place. The boy simply nodded at the grown man and said in a low voice,

" _Merci, Monsieur et Madam Glasson_."

" _De rien_." Monsieur Glasson said. "Would you prefer to journey home alone, or may I accompany you?"

"Er, I'll be okay, _merci_." The boy said as he felt his face turn hot.

"That is alright." Monsieur Glasson said kindly and walked the boy to the door, Madam Glasson following them. "We will be praying for you and your family. _Au Revoir_."

" _Au Revoir, Monsieur_." The boy called back with a smile as he walked away.

The parents went back inside and Monsieur Glasson sat with his children at the table while his wife spooned out dinner.

"Papa," Napoleon said, "Why did you give that gypsy soup?"

"Because, _mon fils_ , he needed our help and we were only too glad to give it. Everything we have has been given to us by God, and so we must give it to those less fortunate."

"But, Papa," Napoleon said timidly. "If people hear we helped a gypsy, won't we get into trouble?"

"No, Napoleon." Monsieur Glasson said firmly. "We did what God told us to do: love our brothers and sisters."

"Your father is right." Madam Glasson said sternly as she sat down and gave everyone a bowl of steaming veggie soup. "We did what was right; it does not matter if he was a gypsy or a Jew or our own son. We helped him, and we should thank God for the opportunity."

Napoleon thought about it for a moment; he was glad to help, but was scared of what it would cost him and his family. Finally, with no further argument, he said, " _Oui, Mama_."

"I'm glad we helped him, Papa." Amorette piped in quickly. "He seemed nice!"

"He was." Monsieur Glasson chuckled at his daughter. "And I am proud to have such a family so willing to help others. Just remember, _mon petit ange_ , not everyone will understand why you help others, but if you are capable of doing so, you must help and give what you can. Do you understand?"

" _Oui, Papa_." Amorette said with a nod.

" _Bien_." Monsieur Glasson said. "Now let us pray."

The family held hands and bowed their heads as Monsieur Glasson said a prayer before they ate. The children were silent, for children must be seen and not heard, and they listened while their father told the story of how he met the boy and bought the stolen bread. Napoleon may have been unsure of his father's decision, but Amorette was happy and proud of her father and wished to help as much one day as he did.

Sadly, that opportunity came in the worst way for Amorette.

Sixteen years past and Paris was not the same. A man called Judge Claud Frollo had started to hunt down and kill gypsies, as if they weren't persecuted enough. He claimed that all gypsies were nothing more than devils straight from hell, because they did magic and stole and lied, and the world would be a much better place without them.

And so for ten years now, Frollo had led his army on a horrible mission to purge the world of sin. Monsieur Glasson and his family were disgusted by it and did their best to help by giving as much gold and food as they could spare to beggars and performers, but they had to be careful or risk being arrested, or even killed.

Amorette was no longer a little girl, but a grown woman who would soon marry once she and her family found the right one, but if she was honest, she didn't want to marry. Amorette wanted nothing more than to be with her family forever and work on the farm. She would get her wish.

Even though the illness was not as bad as it was long ago, it was still claiming people's lives, and one day, it took her brother, Napoleon, and she woke up to find her brother lying in bed in pain, covered in boils and having a horrible fever that would not go down. By the end of the week, he died in his sleep, a grown man who never even had a family of his own.

His parents were devastated, and Amorette did not have time to mourn for her brother; her mother soon fell ill within another week, and a few days later, her father fell ill, too. By some miracle, Amorette did not fall ill; she counted the days and wondered when she would wake up sick, too, but she never did, and so it was up to her to tend to her parents and continue running the farm so the crops would not spoil and the animals would not go hungry.

Madam Glasson soon died while her husband was ill, and Amorette did not have the heart to tell him that he outlived his wife. One afternoon, Amorette was feeding her father soup in the living room while he laid in bed with a cold, wet cloth on his forehead. He was in pain, but still wished to talk to his only daughter.

"We… your mama and I… are very proud of you…" He said weekly in between spoonfulls of soup.

" _Merci_ , Papa." Amorette said with a little smile.

"When we are gone… I want you to have the farm… and everything on it…" Glasson said slowly. "I would have had you marry… if I knew someone I could trust… but I would rather have you alone… then with someone I do not trust…"

"I understand, Papa." Amorette said gently. "You are very wise."

"People will try to take what you have, Amorette." Glasson warned weekly. "You must stay strong."

"I know, Papa."

"You must keep your faith."

"I will, Papa."

"And you must share what you have."

"I remember, Papa." Amorette promised and placed a cool hand on her father's cheek. "Rest now."

"Have you tended to your mother?" He checked.

Amorette turned to put away the empty bowl and blinked away tears. "She is asleep now, Papa."

Amorette turned back to look at her father and found him asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. She smiled mournfully, knowing full well they may never talk again, and began washing the dishes in her hand before sitting to work on her patch-quilt.

She was right; the next morning, her father was dead, and Amorette was alone with a farm full of growing crops, an old donkey named LeFou, a two-year-old, white, French Bulldog named Jacque, and a few hens for eggs. She had little time to bury her parents, and when she was home at last, she didn't even have time to change into her pajamas before collapsing into her newly cleaned bed and crying herself to sleep.

The next morning she felt numb. She made herself some tea like always, collected the eggs and fed LeFou as always, had some eggs for breakfast, and then did her chores for the day it was. It was Friday, so that meant it was cleaning day. With little Jacque at her heels, Amorette cleaned the little house top to bottom. She had already cleaned it many times the last few weeks, to get rid of the illness, but she did it again to be safe. Her fear was getting sick, too, and dying alone.

Two days went by, and it was Sunday. Amorette had not been to church in a while, because of her family's illness, and even though she wanted to stay home and mourn, she knew she had to go, and so she wore her Sunday best and walked into town with her own Bible in her gloved hands.

Notre Dame was crowded and just as pure as Amorette always knew it to be. Some may feel judged or unwelcome there, but she always felt at home, like she could be herself without the fear of being accused or arrested. She sat by herself, which felt unusual, but once the music started to play and the chorus began to sing into the luminous church, she felt peace and smiled as she sang along.

The Archdeacon gave his sermon like always, and Amorette sat very still and listened, never once taking her eyes off of him. When he had finished, another song was sung and then the offering plate was passed. When it came to Amorette, she pulled out her money pouch and put in four gold coins. A twinge of pain came when she remembered how each member of her family would put a gold coin in for the church. Amorette simply blinked her aching baby-blue eyes, and passed the bowl to the man on her left.

When the lesson was over, many families left in a big crowd as they discussed the sermon and eagerly waited for lunch. Amorette sat, waiting for the crowd to lessen, and she reread the Bible verses the Archdeacon highlighted.

" _Bonjour, Madam_." A voice said above her.

Amorette looked up from her Bible and saw the Archdeacon looking down at her with a smile.

" _Bonjour, Monsieur_." Amorette as she closed her Bible and stood up with a dip of her head.

"My, you look beautiful this morning." He said kindly.

Amorette looked down at her white dress with salmon overcoat and her matching white gloves and looked back up at the Archdeacon with a blushing smile.

" _Merci, Monsieur_." She replied.

"Where is your family today?" He asked.

Amorette's smiled died and she answered, "They died, Monsieur. They fell ill."

The Archdeacon was off-footed by this, and placed a soft hand on her right shoulder. "I am very sorry to hear of your loss, Madam, but they are in a better place, now."

" _Merci_." Amorette said to her hands, holding on to one another on her front. "I know."

"I am glad to find you well." He added with a small smile.

" _Oui_ , I am grateful to be in full health." Amorette said to the Archdeacon and nodded.

"Well, I shall be praying for you, child."

" _Merci, Monsieur_." Amorette said with a dip of her head for respect and the Archdeacon left to greet others.

Amorette decided to leave, thinking of a calming afternoon with Jacque, and walked down the streets of Paris alone. As she walked, her thoughts drifted. Happy memories of working on her patch-quilt for the first time many years ago and being praised by her mother; helping on the farm with her father when Napoleon had a cold; playing anything with Napoleon from "house" to "war".

" _SALAUD_!" A voice yelled, snapping Amorette out of her thoughts.

She looked up and quickly analyzed her surroundings to see a gypsy who had been playing his trumpet for money being persecuted by two soldiers. The man wore green shorts and a matching shirt that showed his belly; he was starving and tried to fight against the soldiers' grip and get his earned-money back, but it was no use.

"You're coming with us!" One soldier said, and Amorette did some quick thinking.

"What is going on?" Amorette asked as she ran up to them and looked at the gypsy, trying to read his expression. "What has he done?"

"Stolen gold, Madam." The second soldier said coldly. "Step aside."

"Stolen?" Amorette repeated. She was luckily able to see all the gold coins and count them quickly before going on. "You mean that gold? I gave it to him!"

All three men stared, and the gypsy quickly hid his shock.

"You gave him twelve pieces of gold?" The first soldier questioned.

" _Oui_ , I did." Amorette said darkly, daring to investigate further.

He did. "How did you get your hands on such money?"

"My parents died last Thursday and left me their gold." Amorette said boldly, without the slightest trace of fear. "They were only farmers, but they had saved their parents' fortune and left that to my name as well. I saw that man this morning before visiting Notre Dame and felt led to give him that gold."

The soldiers exchanged looks and the second asked, "Can you prove it?"

"Can you disprove it?" Amorette snapped back.

"Is that a threat, peasant?!"

"That is a fact!" Amorette yelled back, her eyes flashing. "You want to look at their graves and check their death certificates, be my guest! However, you will let that gypsy go, since he stole no gold!"

The soldiers looked at each other, talking silently. Amorette took the opportunity to give a quick wink to the gypsy, who was frozen.

"Very well." The first soldier said to Amorette and he and his partner let the gypsy go. "Consider both of you lucky, but order us around again, and it'll be the last thing you ever do." He threatened, and the two walked away.

Amorette went up to the gypsy and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Oui, Madam." The gypsy said hoarsely. " _Merci, mais pourquoi_?"

Amorette smiled and asked in return, " _Pourquoi pas_? You look hungry. Would you like to join me for lunch?"

The gypsy was off-footed, not sure if it was a trap or not, but then again, this girl just saved him. Not wanting to displease her, he said,

"Uh, sure. _Merci_ , Madam."

Amorette led the way down the street and the two talked pleasantly. Not much to say, but about things like the weather, the gypsy's family. When he mentioned that he had a wife, Amorette stopped and said,

"Well, why don't you bring her?"

The gypsy stopped and asked in surprise, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely!" Amorette said with a beaming smile. "And bring some of your friends, as well! I will go home and get the meal started. I live at the farm with a well by the edge, I will leave by door open and my white dog out so you'll know it's me."

Grinning, the gypsy agreed and went off to get his family. Amorette hurried in her step to get home and unchained Jacque once she arrived. She slipped on her apron and started to work at once, slicing up veggies and picking herbs for a delicious soup. It was a simple veggie soup, but it was very filling and hoped it would help all of those hungry people.

As she worked, she ran through her mind to what she had done. She had saved a gypsy, and invited him to dinner. Why? She hadn't thought much at the time, only acted, but now she laughed at herself for acting foolishly, but if it was so foolish, why did it feel so right? Amorette found herself feeling proud. As promised, the gypsies came and Jacque barked at them to know Amorette had come.

" _Jacque, arrêtez_!" Amorette ordered and the little white dog sat and stared at the guests, who only smiled at him. "I am sorry; he is over-protective."

"It is alright, Madam." The gypsy in green said and patted the dog's head.

They all went inside and Amorette did a quick count to herself. There was the gypsy she saved, his wife, another gypsy girl and three more men. There was plenty of soup for all seven of them, but she couldn't help but smile; she had touched six lives that day.

The gypsies were kind and praised Amorette's home and her cooking. Everyone, even little Jacque, ate all they could hold and there was still some soup left over. Amorette gave the last little soup a stir over the little fire and said,

"I'm afraid I cannot spare any pots, so I cannot send you home with some soup. Can anyone finish it?"

They all shook their heads and one woman said, "No, it is yours."

Amorette put a lid over the soup and said, "Jacque and I can finish it tonight."

The gypsies all stood up and the man Amorette had saved said, " _Merci_ , Madam, but we must head home."

Amorette nodded and said, "I understand. Thank you for sharing a meal with me. Will you come again sometime?"

The gypsies exchanged looks, and the second woman asked, "You want us to return?"

Amorette nodded. "If you want to. I know it is strange, but I want to help you, and it is nice not to eat alone." She added.

The second woman smiled and said, "Well, I would be happy to share another meal with you. Perhaps next Sunday?"

"I look forward to it!" Amorette said excitedly and walked everyone out, waving and exchanging goodbyes.

The next Sunday, the same gypsies came, this time bringing a little bit of bread they had saved up for. Amorette argued that it was not necessary, but the guests pointed out that they all got to enjoy it and that it went well with the soup, so she let it go. They asked Amorette if they may invite a friend or two and she only got excited and highly encouraged it.

Soon, Sunday afternoons became the highlight of the week for Amorette. It was easy to mourn well for her family, with new friends and guests to attend to and look forward to seeing. Soon enough, whenever she went into town, she met at least one of her new friends and would wave or maybe even stop to talk for a while.

Amorette knew the risks that came with serving gypsies in her home, especially since she owned her own farm and was not married, despite being of age for a long time, but she found herself unafraid and uncaring if she was caught; she was proud to help the gypsies and was happy to have a reason to work and live.

Sadly, the months grew cold and a huge winter storm left everyone locked in, so Amorette was left alone most days with no crops to tend to and to do chores inside like pottery, cleaning, or sewing and knitting. She kept herself busy and looked forward to spring, when she could see her friends again and start new crops.

Spring came, and with that, new acuities burst from the ground like the new flowers in the rich grass. Jacque was still a protective, well-behaved pup. Amorette was still a proud, strong young lady. The farm was still thriving, along with all the chickens and old LeFou. Not all was the same, much was new. Though the farm was emptier this year, it was never lonesome.

The first chance Amorette got, she invited all of her friends to come for another wonderful Sunday lunch. Eager to catch up on news, they gathered together for a hearty meal and it was like winter never came. After Gaston, the man Amorette saved, had told a funny story that left everyone nearly covered in soup and short of breath, Amorette asked,

"So, you all are doing well?"

The gypsies exchanged looks, and then sighed in sadness.

"We lost a few people this winter." Gaston's wife informed.

"I am very sorry." Amorette said honestly as she poured out some more tea. "It was Frollo, wasn't it?"

They nodded.

"The usual thing." Gaston said sadly. "It's sad to call it 'normal', but it is."

Amorette nodded. "I know what you mean. I don't like him at all; he gives all Christians a bad name."

One man named Maceo pointed out, "That's not entirely true; most of us are Christians."

"But how many gypsies hate non-gypsy Christians?" Amorette asked gently, praying that they would be honest.

The gypsies exchanged looks, until Gaston finally said, "We do not hate you."

Amorette chuckled. "I know you don't. I am just worried… I mean… I don't want people to hate an entire group of people because of the actions of a few. Anyways, I would like to think more people would take a stand if not afraid of what would happen to them and their families; Frollo has done a good job of using fear to keep people on his side."

"It won't last long."

"What about you?" A beefy man named Sergio asked. "Aren't you afraid?"

Amorette laughed, and it surprised her friends; it even surprised her a little. "You know, I often ask myself why I am not afraid. I guess…" Amorette thought for a moment and then answered, "I suppose I know I'm doing the right thing, and that helps demolish my fear. I have nothing to lose, anyways."

"What about your farm, your home?" Gaston's wife, Pallavi, asked worriedly. "I honestly feel a little guilty putting you at risk, but I know how much these meals mean to you."

"No," Amorette corrected. "You must know how much you all mean to me. And these are only meager possessions; it won't matter in the afterlife."

Pallavi smiled and she said, "True."

"But if you are caught…" Sergio started, but Amorette stopped him.

"Then I shall make it last until I am caught. And I shall argue as to why, and pray for the best, but let us not worry about that now. How is everyone else in the Court of Miracles?"

~

Clopin sat against a wooden rod in the Court of Miracles, a bottle in one hand and his other hand in his long, jet-black hair. Esmeralda had finally fallen asleep and he was left alone to think. Only a ten-year-old girl and she was putting poor Clopin at wits-end. True, she was not as bad as she once was.

Gaston and Pallavi walked in, laughing and talking, and carrying a newly-made pot. Clopin paid attention and looked at them. They walked in and got closer to their king.

" _Bonjour_ , Clopin!" Gaston said happily. "Would you like some soup?"

Clopin gave a little, tired smile, and said, " _Oui_ , Gaston. _Merci_."

"Rough day?" Pallavi asked softly as she sat with the pot and Gaston went into the next tent to grab spoons and bowls.

Clopin nodded. Gaston returned and his wife spooned out three bowls of the warm soup, leaving a little leftover for the goat, Djali, to lap up from the bottom of the pot. Clopin ate a spoonful of the hot, delicious veggie soup and gave a small sigh through the nose; it seemed to melt away his worries and bring some sort of comfort to him. It also cleared his head, and he suddenly realized that Pallavi didn't make this.

"Where did you get this?" Clopin asked suspiciously.

"A friend of ours gave us some after a nice Sunday lunch." Gaston answered in between mouthfuls. "She's a wonderful cook, hu?"

"What friend?"

"You know Glasson? The farmer outside of town."

"I know everybody." Clopin said dignified.

"Well, you don't know his daughter." Pallavi said with a sneer smile into her spoon. "Her father, mother, and brother struck ill and died last fall; she's all alone with that farm now, poor girl."

"She's no girl, _mon amour_." Gaston corrected with a chuckle. "I have never met such a brave young woman. Amorette has cared for many of us, despite the risks; I will never forget the day she saved me."

Clopin swallowed a spoonful of soup carefully as not to chock. "Saved you? How?"

"I was accused of stealing one day while playing." Gaston explained. "She stepped in and said she gave me all the money, and so the soldiers let me go. Had to keep a low profile for a while, but it all worked out."

" _Oui_ , I shall never be able to thank her enough for that." Gaston's wife said before kissing her husband's cheek. "I do fear for Amorette. One day, her luck will run out."

Clopin took a swing from his bottle and said point-blank, "Foolish girl. Well, if she is willing to risk her life, so be it."

"We will be for her, when that day comes, I mean." Pallavi said boldly, and Gaston nodded in agreement.

Clopin did not say anymore as he drank the last of his soup, but thought to himself, _"Stupid girl. She's going to throw her life away and expect my men to swoop in and save her. She better not, anyways…"_


	2. Why and Why Not

A small outbreak of the common cold flew by Paris as spring was waning. Amorette was lucky enough not to get sick, but her friends were not, so she used her free time to tend to the seedlings that were started to spring up from the rich soil and care for her animals. LeFou was very old and time was ticking for him, but he showed no signs of going anytime soon. Without a rooster, Amorette didn't expect any chicks, nor wanted them this year. Jacque was still healthy and happy, always by Amorette's side and there to make sure she was never alone.

Summer was coming quickly this year, making up for the freezing winter. People started to get better, and Amorette's farm was doing well, but that meant that Amorette was working from sunup to sundown. One Sunday, when her friends were enjoying a nice lunch with her, she had a craving for bread, but had none in the hut and could not buy some for the lunch, but after her friends had left, she had counted her money and put some aside to get herself a treat.

On Monday morning, after breakfast and morning chores, Amorette left her hut and went out to get some bread, leaving Jacque at guard like any other day. She had a lovely walk in the warm, breezy air into town and was close to Notre Dame when she reached the bakery; she even got to listen to the bells ring the mid-morning mass.

Amorette went inside and saw a tiny display of éclairs decorated with white-frosting flowers. The baker explained when he saw Amorette's shining baby-blue eyes that his cow had been giving a lot of milk recently, and so he could make the crème for the éclairs. Biting a bullet and deciding to buy herself a treat for working so hard on the farm, she bought one éclair and a few loaves of bread to last the week and suffice her appetite for a long time.

Walking down the street, Amorette saw a little gypsy girl with curly black hair tied back with pink and wearing a pink skirt, red tie, and white shirt, run up to her and bump into her, chasing a flat ball, but obviously still fun to play with. The little girl looked up at Amorette, afraid, but Amorette smiled and picked up the broken ball.

"Here you are, _chéri_." She said kindly to the girl.

The girl smiled with a missing tooth and took the ball back.

"Thank you." She replied.

Amorette only smiled and saw the girl's parakeet-green eyes look at Amorette's éclair, and Amorette noticed how thin and hungry the gypsy girl was.

Still smiling softly, Amorette broke off the unchewed end of her treat and held it out to the girl, "Go on. Have some."

The girl stared at it and slowly took it, as if expecting the stranger to change her mind, but Amorette was sure of her decision and the little gypsy girl took a tiny bite.

"Thank you." She said before hugging Amorette carefully as to not ruin any parts of the éclair.

"You're welcome." Amorette said kindly.

The two girls let go and Amorette journeyed on her way home, thinking of eating just a little more éclair – it was rather rich – and giving the last bit to Jacque. She had a nice little walk out of town, until she could see her farm and she saw something that stopped her heart for a short time.

Soldiers, and even Frollo himself, were outside Amorette's hut, trying to get in, but were unable to pass a growling Jacque, who was chained by the door and guarded it with his life.

Amorette ran as fast as she could and placed the last of her éclair in her bread-basket. She yelled and called out to them to get their attention, and as the men looked at her, she ran up to Jacque and held him in her arms on her knees.

" _Jacque, arrêtez_!" Amorette said firmly and petted the dog's head to try to calm him down, but he still shook and growled at the men from inside Amorette's tight hold. "I am sorry." Amorette said to the men. "He is very protective. What may I do for you?"

"We have word that you have been harboring gypsies here." Frollo said as he walked his black horse forward and glared down at the young lady. "Who owns this property?"

"I do." Amorette said as she sat on her knees a little straighter, still not trusting Jacque enough to let go.

"You own this property?" Frollo repeated, not willing to believe it.

"Yes, sir." Amorette said clearly. "When my family died, my father left this farm to me; we had no other family and my father did not trust any men enough to have me married and give them the farm, so it is mine."

"Is it true then that you have been harboring gypsies?" Frollo asked.

"Harboring?" Amorette repeated. "I have had friends over for lunch after church."

"So you admit to having gypsies on your property?" Frollo dared.

"Not now, but in the past, yes." Amorette said clearly.

"Are you aware, Mrs. Glasson, that that is against the law?"

"You mean your law." Amorette corrected.

On the outskirts of town, many people started to listen, seeing the soldiers and Frollo at the little Glasson farm. Their jaws dropped when they heard Amorette correct the judge, and Frollo glared at the girl.

"You claim your law is God's law, but didn't God say to love one another and 'treat others the way we want to be treated'?" Amorette asked loudly. "And wasn't it Jesus that had meals with sinners? Why is it God can love sinners, but you can't?"

"SILENCE!" Frollo yelled.

"I am simply trying to understand you, sir." Amorette said calmly, but her eyes were fierce. "I do not understand how a 'man of God' can be so cruel to his own brothers and sisters."

"Those gypsies are not our brothers and sisters, but demons from hell!" Frollo roared. "And if you are going to conspire with devils, than you are breaking the law and will be punished! Arrest her!"

Before the soldiers could attack, Amorette opened the hut's door, threw Jacque in, and crawled in before slamming the door closed. She quickly stood up and used a broom to lock the door in place. Amorette's luck was out.

Amorette picked up a sack and stuffed the loaves of bread, her money pouch, a spare dress and a cloak in her the sack, leaving almost half of it empty.

"Get in, Jacque!" She ordered as the men hammered on the door and air-tight windows.

Jacque jumped in the sack, trembling in a mixture of fury and fear, and Amorette put it on her shoulders and grabbed a kitchen-knife. She climbed up the little ladder up to her and Napoleon's old room and placed a chair on one of the beds. She quickly stood on it and used the knife to cut herself a hole in the straw ceiling. Amorette prided the little hole open and climbed up on the roof.

She looked around and saw the soldiers, one with a flamed-torch. With hardly any time to react, Amorette jumped and the man sat the house on fire at the same time. Amorette crashed behind the horses and quickly got up and ran with Jacque still on her back.

"GET HER!" She heard Frollo yell.

Amorette ran for her life straight into Paris and tried to think. Her life in Paris was over; she had all of her gold and some food, so she would run away to another country, one where she would be safe. She didn't care where. She'd decided if she manages to escape.

Amorette ran with horses chasing her and she saw in front of her a man on his roof, repairing a hole. Seeing the ladder, Amorette ran for it and climbed up it to escape the horses just in time, and for good measure, she kicked the ladder down.

"Sorry!" She called after the man as she ran and jumped across roofs to escape the soldiers.

Amorette ran and jumped and took some time to look back; a few soldiers had gotten off their horses and picked up the ladder to go after her; Amorette should have set the ladder on the roof instead of knocking it over. She ran even harder and could feel her heart pounding against her chest. She knew if she had to stop she would be sick. Her feet felt as if they had caught fire, but she looked down and saw them only blurs.

Amorette slid to a halt as she reached the end of houses. She looked down and saw a man carrying a huge barrel of water out of his house. Amorette whistled and the man stopped and looked around for the source of the sound. She took the opportunity and jumped perfectly so she splashed into the barrel unharmed.

"Hey!" The man yelled as he looked at his wet side and Amorette toppled the barrel to get out.

"Sorry!" She called as she wiggled out and ran.

Up ahead, Notre Dame stood in the middle of Paris. If she could reach there and claim sanctuary, she could rest and find a way out of town! Amorette ran closer and closer, until Frollo and his horse, Snowball, ran in front of her and blocked her way. Amorette quickly ran to her left, but it was soon blocked by solders and horses. She turned around quickly, but that side was blocked, too. Amorette and little Jacque were suddenly closed in with Frollo and his minions.

Frollo grinned evilly at the girl and pointed a bone-thin finger at her. "Arrest the girl!" He ordered.

Amorette looked around and breathed heavily, her head spinning, the horses were closing in around her while Frollo sat back and watched. One guard grabbed her by the wrist and she acted on instinct. With strength and speed that could come only from great fear, Amorette grabbed the handle of the soldier's sword from his scabbard and slice his gloved hand.

The man roared in pain and let go to tend to his bleeding hand and Amorette used her new weapon to cut cheeks to hurt them and stop them from pursuing her. Amorette dodged between horses' legs and ran to the right, towards the graveyard.

Frollo was engulfed in rage and ordered his men to find Amorette, who was crouched in the graveyard behind and an old gargoyle. Amorette closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath, Jacque trembling in the pack and the bloody sword in her hand. Amorette heard a soft "pst" and opened her eyes and turned around to look at one of the tombstones that appeared more like a tiny house with a cross on the front, but it had a grave with carvings of little kings on the side. The covered was lifted slightly and Amorette could hear a familiar voice hiss to her from the crack.

"Hurry. Get in."

Amorette looked around the graveyard and found it empty, but guards were coming to search; it was now or never. Amorette ran and lifted the lid and slipped inside the grave, but was surprised to find a shadowed man there at the top of a set of stairs. He gently grabbed her free hand and said,

"Come."

Amorette nodded, speechless, and allowed him to slowly walk her down the stairs. The stairs led the pair to great walls that domed to form a ceiling and were covered in skeletons. Below was ankle-deep sewage and rats scurried along food. A lit-torch hung on the wall and the man grabbed it. Amorette's jaw-dropped at seeing her friend, Gaston.

"Gaston." Amorette gasped quietly. "What…what is this place?"

"The old catacombs." Gaston answered as he went in first the ankle-deep sewage and allowed Amorette to step in.

She took it and tried to lift her dress out of the mess, but it did no good with her hand full of sword and so she let her dress fall as she walked with Gaston across the catacomb.

"But, where are we going?" Amorette asked as she looked around.

"The Court of Miracles." Gaston answered with a smile. "You are invited to live there from now on, if you wish?"

"Live in the Court of Miracles?" Amorette repeated. "But… why?"

Gaston stopped and looked at his friend. "Why not?" He asked with a smile.

Amorette stared, surprised that he remembered exactly what she said that day, and smiled and Gaston continued to lead the way. The floor slopped up and the two walked on stone, no longer sewage. They walked on for a while and Amorette saw the tunnel open dramatically and reveal what looked like the inside of a castle.

The Court of Miracles was truly a wonderful place. The ceiling was decorated in cloths and hammocks in which some people slept in. Cloths also hung from wooden rods on the floor and made little huts and homes. Doors and tunnel and staircases led off and Amorette guests they led to other gypsies' courters. Little fires for cooking and such were spread all over the place very carefully and gypsies sat outside their homes, drinking tea, counting gold, talking pleasantly, or watching the children and animals play.

As soon as Gaston and Amorette walked in, everyone looked up at them. The gypsies gasped and some left to tell others and others whispered to each other in theory as to why a non-gypsy was in the Court of Miracles. Amorette could feel herself turning red. Pallavi, Gaston's wife, ran up to them and hugged her husband.

"Gaston! What happened?"

"Frollo tried to arrest Amorette, but she managed to run to the graveyard." Gaston answered as he hugged his wife back.

Pallavi let go of Gaston and looked at Amorette. "You escaped?" She asked and glanced down at the bloody sword in Amorette's hand.

"My grandfather was a guard years ago." Amorette explained and held up the sword. "He taught my father and my father taught me when my brother showed no interest. It's not much, but it was enough to help me steal this and escape."

"Thank God, we prayed that when the day came you would be safe."

"Thank you, Pallavi." Amorette replied with a smile.

Pallavi took her free hand and said, "Come, let us get you settled in. You must be hungry and tired."

Amorette was not really hungry, but her legs ached and her eyelids felt heavy; she wanted to relax a little. Pallavi and Gaston led Amorette down the stairs and across the court to their own little courters Gaston opened a curtain for the ladies and Amorette found herself in a little room with a short table, a big bed mostly made up of loads of blankets and giant pieces of fabric, and the floor covered with rugs. Gaston sat Amorette down and looked at the sword in her hand. It was still dripping on blood, so she took off her sack to let poor little Jacque out and get her cloak.

"Come on out, Jacque." Amorette cooed softly. "It is alright."

Jacque slowly walked out of the sack and onto the herb-scented rugs and sniffed around for any sense of danger. Amorette got out her cloak and used it to wipe the sword clean. It was a good weapon and she laid it on the floor next to her.

Amorette pulled out a loaf of bread next from her sack and said, "I'm not really all that hungry, but you may have some of my bread."

Gaston smiled and said, "We shall wait until this evening then to eat."

Amorette nodded and put the bread in her sack and had it lean against her crossed-legs.

"So, I hope this means you will stay with us." Pallavi hinted as she sat next to her husband and Amorette.

"Gaston!" A voice called from outside before Amorette could answer. "Pallavi!"

Gaston looked at the entrance of his home and called back, " _Oui_ , come in, Clopin!"

Amorette perked up at hearing the name and watched the man walk in, pushing his way against the little curtain. He was a thin man with a goatee and a golden hoop hooked to his left ear, his long hair shadowing it. His jet-black hair went to the base of his neck and he wore purple clothes and shoes and a pair of black gloves, leaving only his face uncovered as he also wore a purple hat with a yellow feather.

Amorette had seen the man before, but not like this. She had watched him perform on the streets from time to time and had seen him lead the Festival of Fools every January. She had heard his name and seen him in a more colorful outfit with a little puppet in his hand, but not like this: unmasked and less colorful, and so serious. Amorette's friends had often mentioned him, but never thoroughly.

"Clopin Troillefou." Amorette whispered to herself in such a low voice that no one heard her.

Jacque growled lowly to the king of the gypsies, but Amorette hushed him and picked him up to pet his head soothingly.

Clopin, however, was unmoved and had a deranged smile to his eyes, as well as the seriousness that looked ready to promise death at any moment. Amorette was not afraid of him, but respected him, and could understand why so many people did, too.

"Amorette Glasson." Clopin hissed to the girl, more to himself than her as he studied her with his beetle-black eyes. " _Oui_ , I've heard about you."

"As I you." Amorette replied.

Before Clopin could retaliate, the same little girl Amorette shared an éclair with came in and walked past Clopin's legs to look at the new comer. Her bright eyes shinned like gems and she smiled widely.

" _Bonjour, Madam_!" She said happily.

Amorette smiled and held out her arms. " _Bonjour, chéri_!"

The little girl ran up to Amorette and landed on her lap, the two hugging each other in greeting.

Esmeralda looked up at her new friend and said, "Thank you for the éclair."

Amorette smiled and smoothed out her curly black hair. "You're welcome."

"Are you going to live with us from now on?" Esmeralda asked excitedly.

"Well, I'm not sure." Amorette answered honestly. "I thought I might…"

"YAY!" Esmeralda cheered and threw her hands up above her head.

Amorette looked up at Clopin with a shrug and an apologetic smile. The king of the gypsies was doing some quick thinking. Nothing like this has really happened before, but she did save and care for many of his people, including Esmeralda.

Clopin bent down a little and put his hands on his hips. "Congratulations, _chéri_ ," He said, saying " _chéri_ " with a sneer. "You're an outlaw."

Amorette gave a sly smile back and said in return, "Thank you, ma roi."

Clopin smiled, surprising Amorette that he was pleased by the comeback, and turned, pushed the curtain out of his way and left without another word.

Gaston looked at Amorette and gave a warm smile. "Well, he wasn't wrong. You being an outlaw now, I mean."

"I'll get settled tomorrow and figure out how I am going to help around here." Amorette promised.

Esmeralda looked up at her and asked, "What are you going to do?"

Amorette looked down at the little girl and answered truthfully, "I'm not sure, but won't it be exciting to find out?"

 **~ one year later ~**

Two soldiers, partners, crept into the ankle-deep sewage as quietly as they could in fear of getting caught. The first held a torch and was on his guard, but the second walked pasted him and was prideful about their discovery.

"Is this the Court of Miracles?" The first asked, shivering at the sight of skeletons decorating the walls; it was almost like they were watching the new-comers.

"We'll be rich!" The second said excitedly. "Frollo will treat us like kings! Come on, it can't be that far."

"Be careful." The first one said wisely. "If we were close to the Court of Miracles, wouldn't we run into something by now, like a guard or a booby-trap, or…" The flame in his hand went out. "… or an ambush."

A few torches were lit, but they were at the hands of hidden gypsies who jumped on the guards from walls and piles of bones. They were quickly restrained and pushed down to their knees with their mouths covered by cloth as a hooded figure walked in front of them with her black gloved-hands on her hips. The men awed at the enemy before them.

"Well, well, well." She said cockily. "What have we here?"

"Spies, here to deliver us to Frollo!" One man said as he ripped off a skeleton mask.

Amorrette lifted her hood and revealed long, wild black hair. The traitor wore a black cloak underneath male clothing, such as brown pants and shirt, brown boots, a black belt holding a stolen sword, and a white undershirt. She had a single gold hoop as an earring and her cloak was held by her neck by a golden crest.

The captured men tried to speak, but their mouths were covered and their voices were muffled.

"You may have been clever enough to hind the court," Amorette spat. "But you were not clever enough to stay alive. Take them to the court to be hanged!"

The soldiers' eyes grew small as they were picked up and the gypsies carried them down the tunnel and into the court. They were stood underneath trap-doors and nooses were brought around their necks. The men left Amorette alone with the spies and she spoke to the crowd.

"We have a double-header tonight! Frollo's spies have infiltrated out home, and will now fully understand what our people go through!"

The crowd cheered in agreement and booed and spat at the soldiers.

Amorette brought her gloved hands to the lever holding the spies up and grinned wickedly.

"WAIT!"

Amorette glanced to her left and saw Clopin do a triple-flip up onto the platform. She rolled her eyes and let go of the lever, while the spies breathed heavily behind the cloths choking them into silence. The king looked at the spies with a blank expression; it was anyone's guess as to what he was going to pull off.

Slowly, Clopin grinned just like Amorette and asked quietly, "Any last words?"

The two solders tried to speak, but all that could be heard was muffled noises.

Amorette popped her fingers and spat, "That's what they all say."

Clopin shrugged and whipped to the other side of the stand, now dressed robes much like Frollo's. Amorette had a reflex to kill him right there, but remain poised like a tiger by the lever.

"Now that we've seen all the evidence…"

The little puppet the king used for his shows appeared at his hand and squeaked, "Wait, I object!"

"Overruled!"

"I object!"

"Quiet!" And Clopin threw his hat on top of the doll.

"Dang."

Amorette rolled his eyes. "Man I kill these _salauds_ now, _ma roi_?" She asked sarcastically.

Clopin looked at the spies one last time before grinning widely, showing white teeth and sharp cheekbone. He looked to the crowd and lifted a thumb, slowly turning it so it pointed down.

Amorette nodded. The crowd cheered. The second-in-command grabbed the lever again, and pulled with all her might.

The trapdoor fell and two necks were broken. The cheers increased and the bodies dangled lifelessly. The few children awake stared and were taught a lesson while their parents celebrated maliciously. Some spat in the direction of the dead bodies. Hell received two new souls that night.

Amorette jumped down to some men and ordered them to take the bodies up and throw them on the street once everyone had dispersed, to show what happens when you mess with the underbelly of Paris. The crowd parted like the Red Sea and parents soothed children for bed. Amorette looked at her king and smiled. He was sitting on the steps, and for a moment, he looked like an old man. She noticed this more and more as their time together increased. It was a side of Clopin he couldn't afford to show, not now anyways.

She sat next to him and stretched her legs out and leaned against her elbows. "Worried, _ma roi_?"

Clpoin raised an eyebrow at Amorette and asked with a smile, "Of what?"

"Two found our hideout tonight. Sure, we killed them and purged the world of two minions, but how did they find this place?"

"Did you hear anything?" Clopin asked and stretched his back out on the stairs, trying to pop his stiffened joints.

Amorette shook her head. "They only speculated if they had found the right place, they didn't even make it to the court before we ambushed them. And the new strategy is working well." She added with a prideful grin and placed her hands behind her neck, her elbows pointed out.

"Did you take my advice?" The king asked his knight.

Amorette rolled her eyes and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think we need to perform a musical number for our prisoners."

"If you're going to do something, _chéri_ , do it with style!" Clopin said boldly with a flick of his black hair.

"Please, just having me involved alone makes the whole event fabulous enough!" Amorette laughed.

Clopin laughed as well and looked out to watch his people. His smile faded and, once again, he looked twice his age. Amorette decided that it was because his eyes held bags under them, his hair stood on end like scared cat, and his back was hunched and his limbs were stiff like boards. Though Amorette had grown tougher and stronger, she always had concerns for her king and was always looking out for him and his people.

She sighed and stood up with a slap of her knees. "Well, I managed to steal some heavy wine the other week. Care for some, _ma roi_?"

Clopin looked at the woman standing next to him. She had changed, but not completely; she had simply let a stronger side of her shine through her pale skin and now she was a fierce knight, Clopin's second-in-command. The king of the gypsies couldn't refuse the drink and stood up with a tired exhale of breath.

" _Oui, chéri. Merci_."

Clopin and Amorette slipped away to the woman's isolated tent and it only took one goblet each for them to collapse in exhaustion.


End file.
